Bold
by Ms.TamborineMan
Summary: A Star Trek-Divergent Crossover. Jim Kirk is stubborn teenager from Abnegation determined to leave his home faction. He finds that his Aptitude tests are far from normal, however, and when he joins Dauntless, he must fight to stay in the faction. What will happen when everything goes to hell? Kirk, Spock, McCoy and the gang are about to find out.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

_Bzzt…bzzt…_

Jim Kirk stared at himself solidly in the mirror. He had liked his previous hairstyle—the messy, dirty blonde spiked look—even though he wasn't supposed to. He allowed himself a tiny smile, even though he wasn't supposed to. Or wasn't he? Was smiling self-indulgent, too, like having a full head of hair?

"Jim," his step-father warned. His smile immediately dropped, and he had to work to keep his hands out of fists as the man that he hated so deeply ran the buzzer through his hair.

Today was a special day, and frankly, Jim had resigned himself. Even if he did get an Abnegation result on the Aptitude test, he was leaving, running as far and as fast as he could from this place. His step-father was a wife-beating asshole, and his mother hadn't cared for him since his father—his real father—died.

That was sixteen years ago.

* * *

Jim's stomach grumbled as he sat in the school cafeteria, waiting for his test. So maybe he hadn't eaten enough for lunch.

All of the city's factions were scattered around the room, into different pockets of color and personalities. The blue Erudite sat neatly in a row, reading, as a group of standing Candor talked loudly about something that was sure to be controversial. Maybe, Jim thought, he would join them. He did have a loud mouth.

When his name was called, Jim stood up and strode purposefully out of the cafeteria. Some people were nervous, but he wasn't. He wasn't staying home anyway.

* * *

"My name is Chris Pike," the Dauntless administrator said gruffly. "Sit your ass down so we can get started."

He did. "Chris Pike, huh?"

"What are you, deaf? That's what I said, wasn't it?"

The man looked to be middle aged, around forty. Funny, Jim thought. He'd never met an old Dauntless.

"Excuse me if I say so," he said, "But 'Chris' doesn't sound like a very Dauntless name."

The man looked at him levelly, a smile twisting on the edges of his lips. "Not all Dauntless have weird names. Besides, what's yours?"

"Jim," he said immediately. "Jim Kirk."

"Well, Jim, would you change your name if you joined the Dauntless?"

"No."

"Case in point." He turned around, grabbing a small glass filled with a clear liquid from the table next to the surgical chair that Jim was sitting in. Meanwhile, he peered at himself in the mirrors lining the wall, throwing his reflection back at him.

"Here," he said, offering Jim the glass. "Drink up."

He didn't need to be told twice. Quickly, he downed the unknown clear liquid and handed the small glass back Chris Pike. Immediately, he was drifting. His head lolled back, his eyes closed…

…And then shot open. He was now standing in the cafeteria, completely drained of people. The place seemed so empty that it emitted a hollow sound.

"Choose."

Jim whipped around, searching for the source of the voice. On a table behind him sat two objects—a block of cheese and a long knife. Although he was hungry, he picked up the knife, watching it glint under the overhead lights.

Suddenly, a low, grumbling sound. Jim slowly turned to see a big German Shepherd dog, its teeth bared and its ears back. It was looking straight at him.

Jim looked at his knife. Oh shit. He couldn't kill this dog!

So what could he do?

Slowly, he dropped into a squat, placing his knife on the floor carefully beside him. He held out his hand and clicked his tongue to his teeth, trying to get the dog to come to him. The dog eventually stopped growling, wagged its tail a little, and trotted over to sniff his fingers.

"I guess we aren't as bad as we thought, huh?" Jim smirked, petting the dog's back and giving it a good scratch behind the ears.

"Doggie!" someone cried. Jim looked up to see a small girl, dressed in a yellow and red Amity dress.

"Wait—" Jim began, but by then it was too late. The dog launched itself in the direction of the girl, teeth bared and barking loudly. Completely forgetting about his knife, Jim lurched forward quickly and grabbed its tail. The German Shepherd yelped in outrage and twisted around, getting a good chunk of his wrist before the image abruptly changed.

He was at the bus stop right in front of his house. Looking up, he saw that the sky was a striking shade of bright blue, but in the distance, clouds were rolling in.

The grumbling sound of a bus rounding the corner piqued Jim's ears. It appeared around the corner on his right, making what looked like a very sharp turn. It came to a sudden, screeching halt in front of him. The bus driver—an old, gray-haired Abnegation man—frowned back at him.

He got in—what else could he do? Before he could even start looking for an seat, the bus jolted into drive and rocketed down the road. Quickly, Jim landed himself in the first seat, next to a man with a newspaper. He looked scarred on his face and hands, dark sunglasses covering his eyes.

"Hey," he said. "Stiff. Look here."

Involuntarily, he stiffened. "What do you want?" he asked.

The man flipped the paper over and tapped the top of the page. A headline and a picture—one of an ordinary but familiar looking man. One word stuck out: MURDERER.

"Do you know this man?"

Jim shook his head, even though he felt like he did know the man. "Nope."

"Really?" the man sounded incredulous. "You're Abnegation. Are you sure?"

"Yep."

"So you do?"

"Nope." Jim looked away briefly. "Sorry, man."

"Sorry," the man grumbled. "_Sorry!_ You could _save_ me!"

"Look," Jim said, laying his hands palms up in front of him and leaning in. "This is a simulation. I can't help anyone."

And, just like that, it was over.


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N.: Before I go any further, I wanted to let everyone know that I do not own Divergent or Star Trek. Although I wish I did. Thank you for reading. **

* * *

Chapter Two

When Jim came to, he groaned and waited a minute before opening his eyes. It seemed as if the lights in the room were ten times brighter than they were before. Pike was staring at him intently now, frowning. He had pulled up a plastic chair for himself.

"Well?" Jim sat up. "How'd I do?"

Pike didn't answer for a very long time. He seemed to be trying to look anywhere but at Kirk.

"Come on," Jim said. "Did I do something wrong."

Slowly, Pike pursed his lips and nodded. Before Jim could ask, he said, "Look. You want to get out, right?"

Jim's eyebrows furrowed. "How would you know that?" he demanded.

"Let's just say I knew your dad. He was a very brave man."

"Sure," Jim said, thinking he sounded too tense. What? He was. How was he supposed to react when he was told that somehow, someway, he'd screwed up the aptitude test? He didn't really want to think about the repercussions of such a thing.

"He saved a ton of people." Pike said, leaning forward. "You know that, right?"

Of course he knew that. He'd been told all his life. Sometimes, though, he selfishly wished that his dad hadn't run into that burning building again, even if he had saved so many people's lives.

Jim nodded. "He was...Abnegation. All the way through." he paused. "Am I not?"

"No. You're not. And I know you didn't really want to be."

Jim shook his head, unbelieving. "Look, man. Just give me my results."

"Abnegation."

"I thought you said-"

"-AND Dauntless. I have to say, it was interesting to watch you pick up the knife then not use it. I'm almost wondering if you have some Amity thrown in there, too."

"Alright," Jim said. "But what does it matter?"

"What does it matter?!" Pike stood up and paced a line out on the floor. Jim swung his legs over the seat and watched, confused. "It matters everything. Are you aware of how dangerous this is?"

He shook his head. Pike stopped pacing. "Listen." he said, looking straight at Jim. "I'm going to put you down as Dauntless."

"Oh. So I suppose you want me to go there, right?" Jim grinned. He couldn't believe this guy.

"Well, you could go to Amity, but you don't strike me as the musical type."

Jim didn't strike himself as the musical type either. And he definitely wasn't staying in Abnegation.

"Fine," he said flatly, "Dauntless." He ran a hand over his now-buzzed blonde hair. "Can I go now?"

"Be my guest, Jim-"

He started toward the door.

"-But-"

A rough hand clamped around his forearm. Pike's expression was one to wither flowers.

"_Don't tell anyone._" A pause. "Is that understood?"

"Yeah," Jim said. "Uh...sure."

Pike nodded and smiled. "See you _tomorrow,_ then."

* * *

That night, Jim shoveled down dinner in a very un-Abnegation manner. He was hungry, not having had anything after the simulation and not much for lunch. It was only when he put up his plate in the sink that his step-father asked, "How'd you do?"

How'd he do? What an odd question. What was good and what was bad in terms of the Aptitude test?

"Good," he answered. "I did good."

His stepfather's eyes caught on him as he walked out the door, but his mom didn't even look up. He stood on the front porch for a very long time, noting how the sunset appeared as fire on the horizon. It sure was pretty outside.

_BANG!_

Jim's head whipped around. What was-

There was a scream. His mother.

A bolt of white hot anger shot through him. He knew what was happening, and was not going to let it, no, not this time.

Jim busted through the door and into the kitchen, where his mind barely had time to register his mom cowered against a kitchen cabinet. All he had to see was his step-father, fist raised. Before he even got the chance to do something, Jim grabbed him from behind and attempted to shove him to the side. The man recovered and spun around, throwing him off. The moment he faced him, Jim threw a hard punch to his face. Either he wasn't expecting it or Jim had hit him in exactly the right place; instantly, his stepfather's eyes rolled and he fell unconscious, crumpling over the kitchen sink.

"Jim!" his mother shrieked. "You _can't do that!_"

"He was going to hurt you!" Jim shouted back, angry.

"Why? Why?" tears streamed from her eyes. "Why do you have to be so selfish?"

He froze, shocked. His mother, his own mother, thought he was selfish.

Slowly, he shook his head. His mother didn't see it; she was still sobbing into her heads.

Jim decided that it was time for him to leave. And so he did.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

They were told that the city was known as Chicago, before whatever had happened. There wasn't much to do—all that was open was a tattoo parlor occupied by the Dauntless and one bright café full of studious Erudite kids. Curious, Jim strolled over to the tattoo place and peered inside. Inside, the air appeared hazy and red.

After a couple of minutes, Jim got the feeling that he wasn't alone. A glance over confirmed his theory—a Candor boy dressed in a cleanly pressed white suit and a jet black tie was looking in the window as well.

"Hey," he said. "What are you doing?"

The Candor boy looked over. He had soft, slightly unkempt brown hair, blue eyes, and a square jaw. His lips parted.

"I thought Abnegation weren't curious." he said. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"I'm not going to be Abnegation for much longer," Jim replied, grinning. "So yeah, I would. Besides, aren't all Candor honest?"

"Well, I'm not going to be Candor for long, either." The boy smiled sassily and stuck out his hand. "The name's Leonard."

Jim glanced at his hand for a second before taking it. "Jim," he said.

Leonard let go and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I'm here because I want to join Dauntless." he blurted.

"It was killing you, wasn't it?"

"What?"

"Pretending you weren't always honest."

"Well…yeah, actually, it was." He paused for a moment, glancing away as if deeply in thought. "Truth is what makes a person who they are, I think. Like flesh and blood, sort of. Without it, what would I have left?"

Jim raised his eyebrows. "Your bones?"

Leonard shrugged and looked away again.

At that moment, the door to the tattoo parlor swung open. A lean man with slanted eyebrows and dark hair stepped out. He looked too clean shaven to be stepping out of a tattoo place, for the ink sneaking from his short shirt sleeve, but by his black garb, Jim concluded that he was Dauntless.

"You two," he said, voice smooth. His eyes shifted from Jim to Leonard and back again. "I must ask you to leave. This parlor is for Dauntless use only."

"You're eloquent…for a Dauntless," Leonard remarked, tacking a grunt to the end. His arms crossed.

Jim stepped forward. "We have to leave, huh? Why?"

"Well…" the man trailed off. His eyes wandered a little over Jim's left shoulder. "It is late. And if I am right, the Abnegation have a curfew, do they not?"

They did, but… "Who cares about a damn curfew?"

The Dauntless glared at him for a moment. "Either leave now, or I will have to remove you by force. It is your choice."

"You act so tough, but your speech begs to differ." Jim's voice rose and he stepped forward. "Are you sure you aren't Erudite?"

For the first time, the man seemed a bit annoyed. Jim and Mr. Dauntless shared a moment together, simply scowling at each other. How sweet.

Leonard elbowed him in the side. "Jim!" he hissed. "Stop it! You're going to get us beat the hell up!"

Leonard was probably right. Jim should have, looking back, listened to him more. Instead, he said, "Yeah, right. This guy is obviously too Erudite to be Dauntless."

Mr. Dauntless stepped forward, about five inches from Jim's chest. He stared down at his stomach then back at his face, as if sizing him up. "Fascinating."

"What?"

"A stubborn Stiff."

Jim's hand pressed into a fist. He swung his arm around to punch Mr. Dauntless, but the man was too fast. In the same instant, he caught Jim's arm, spun him around, and used his other hand to capture Jim's other wrist. As for Jim…well, he found himself staring at the street, unable to move. Mr. Dauntless's hands were as tight as vice grips.

"Ha, ha," Jim said, laughing nervously. "So…maybe that wasn't my best idea."

Leonard just shook his head. He was standing to the side, in a seemingly different position than he was before. "Really?" was all he said.

"Finished?" asked Mr. Dauntless, very calmly, voice almost melodic.

"Not quite yet…ah…" Jim tried twisting his neck around to see Mr. Dauntless's face. "I haven't gotten your name yet."

"You would like to know my name?" Mr. Dauntless sounded sincerely surprised. "Fascinating."

He let him go. Jim stumbled forward a couple of steps before turning back around to face the man. Discreetly, he tried to massage his wrists.

"Spock." He said, and with that, went back inside.


End file.
